The Red Train
by SweetDreamBeautifulNightmare
Summary: The Hogwarts Express was a calming, reassuring sight for Draco. DH   epilouge compliant


"Hate is too great a burden to bear. It injures the hater more than it injures the hated." Coretta Scott King

Draco Malfoy arrived on the platform at five minutes to ten on the first of September. Platform Nine and Three Quarters had not changed a bit since his last visit. All along the edge of the platform, mothers were teary eyed as they waved their children off for the year, younger children staring longingly at the train, 1st years looking so excited yet unquestionably terrified (some dressed in their school robes and some in normal attire) and everyone carrying heavy trunks laden with clothes, spell books and quills onto the train. The Hogwarts Express was a calming, reassuring sight for Draco. It brushed away the apprehension he felt for his son.

As a child every year, seeing the gleaming ruby train was like going home, away from the domineering, cruel man that was his father. Draco's father often beat him, telling him that 'Proper pure blood boys didn't run around the garden chasing gnomes'. Hogwarts was a relief, somewhere where he could be in charge, where he could be the cruel one, and let the other children know how easy they had it.

Astoria followed her husband through the wall, hurrying their son Scorpius along too. She and Draco had been married for 15 years, a marriage contract brokered by her father and Lucius Malfoy. At first she had violently protested – Draco Mafloy! An ex-death eater, who fell from the elite pure blood society quicker than you, could say 'Hufflepuff'. However, they went through with the wedding. In the first years, they were always snipping, a sarcastic comment never too far away. But in more recent years, they had become more like close friends.

It had worried Astoria as a young woman that she would never marry for love, for passion and lust. But she now revelled in the other things: the security, the friendship, the trust she put in Draco, and her darling son, Scorpius. He was a tall boy for his age, just recently turned 11. Of course he had the trademark white blonde Malfoy hair (the genes were just as strong as the Weasleys and their ginger hair), but he had her leafy green eyes and slight tan. He was a Quidditch player through and through, hoping to follow in his father's footsteps as a Slytherin Seeker. The boy worshipped the ground his father walked on, which often puzzled Draco, who never knew such love for his father.

As the three of them walked towards the train, with Scorpius' trunk floating along behind, they approached a couple with three children. On further inspection, Astoria realized it was Dean Thomas and his wife, Lavender Brown, Gryffindors from Draco's year. She notcied her husband's face visibly pale, as it did every time they saw an Order of the Phoenix or Dumbledores Army member.

"Malfoy. Good to see you. How are you?" Dean smiled, in what Astoria thought to be a polite attempt at civility.

"Good thanks, Thomas. Brown. Are any of your children starting this year?"

"Yes, Athena our eldest is starting this year. This must be your son then?" Lavender asked, looking at the young blonde boy next to Draco, who could only nod curtly.

"I dont believe we've met before Mrs Malfoy. I'm Dean Thomas"

"Astoria Malfoy, formerly Greengrass. I was two years behind you at school; I believe you know my sister, Daphne?"

" A pleasure Mrs Malfoy. Well then, we best be going, hadn't we luv? Nice to see you both." The Thomas' hurried away to the train, loading on the little girl's trunk.

Draco relaxed as they hurried away. Even though the Order publically supported him, and kept him from Azkaban, most of its members still disliked him. They were the odd few, such as Granger, Potter and Longbottom who got along (or tried to) with him. He owed Granger, Potter and Weasley his life, as they had saved him twice in the Battle of Hogwarts, as well as Potter and Granger coming to his defence at the trial (Weasley said that "saving his life was enough, I don't need to help the slimy ferret any more than I already have".)

The trial in which he and his father had stood side by side. The death eater and his son. The school bully and his father. The young boy who blamed his father for their pain. They had prosecuted his father first, listing the many, various crimes he had committed during his Death Eater years. They gave Lucius Malfoy life imprisonment in Azkaban, with no opening for parole. In all honesty, Draco had expected that from the moment the Dark Lord fell, and it relieved him in some ways. As Draco had stepped up into the wooden box, guilty for his crimes, and so very afraid of the outcome, Harry Potter had come to his defence, stating that he had not wanted to do these things, and had turned to the Light during the Battle. He had escaped Azkaban, somehow. And to think, now he owed his life _and _his freedom to Potter.

As a young boy, he would have rather died than owe his life to Harry 'I-just-won't-bloody-die' Potter. But having almost died, he concluded that owing Potter was the lesser of two evils. However, that didn't mean that Draco had to like. No, that was one thing that would never change.

At that moment, the smoke billowed, leaving more of the platform uncovered for his view. Towards the centre of the train, stood Potter himself, wife and children also present. Of course, Granger and Weasley were there with their children too. If he remembered correctly, one of Granger's kids was going to be in the same year as Scorpius, along with the Potter child – Albus. Draco had been shocked to hear Potter named his son Albus _Severus_. He smiled wistfully, imagining the look of horror and nausea that would have marred his godfather's face if he were still alive.

Severus had always been Draco's favourite out of his father's friends, purely for the fact that while he may not go around bragging about wealth and Mudb – Muggle-born killing, it was obvious that he was the most intelligent of the whole bunch. And his admiration for the Potions professor only grew as he spent time at Hogwarts (what with all the points taken from other houses). In 6th year his liking of Severus wavered. Of course, his father was in Azkaban, and Severus had taken over the right-hand man position. He was also scared at the time, and his fear had led him to not kill Dumbledore. That had sealed his fate with the Dark Lord as nothing more than a lackey, a pawn that was easily disposed of.

Weasley looked up, and saw him staring over. He spoke to Granger, Potter and the She-Weasel. They turned, observing him and his family. They nodded, and Granger even seemed to smile at him. He nodded back, acknowledging the civility they all kept up.

He turned to Scorpius and smiled. "You see them over there Scorp? Those by the third door down. Do you know who they are?" Astoria looked at him quizzically, but he brushed her off with a nod.

"Where? Oh, not – hang on! That's the Golden Trio!"

"Yes, it is. Now those children getting on the train - be good to them."

"But Dad, they'll probably be in Gryffindor! I won't be playing in the Quidditch team, going 'Of course not Potter, you just take that Snitch even though I could totally beat you to it. I'm being nice like my dad tells me to be'. Not going to happen Dad."

Draco chuckled.

"Well obviously. But don't hate them. They're just people, even if they are Gryffindors."

"Alright Dad. Look, I'd better get on the train, it leave in a minute or too. Love you Mum, Love you Dad. See you at Christmas!" And with that Draco watched his son hop onto the train, and wave out the window as it pulled away along the crowded platform.

"I won't let hate ruin him, Astoria. Hate leads to suffering."

He looked down at his left forearm, and pulled up the sleeve. His horrible Dark Mark sat staring at him, his pale skin accentuating the black tattoo. It had not burnt in 19 years. All was well.


End file.
